


The Rules of Speed Dating

by theramblinrose



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M, Mandrea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: Caryl, AU.  Mandrea, secondary.  One shot.  Rules were made to be broken.
Relationships: Andrea/Merle Dixon, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, Merle Dixon/Andrea Harrison
Kudos: 3





	The Rules of Speed Dating

AN: This is just a fun little one shot in response to a prompt/request on Tumblr. If you have any prompts/requests for me, you can send them to me here or drop them in my Tumblr inbox.

I own nothing from the Walking Dead.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

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“This is stupid,” Carol complained.

Andrea was smiling and looking around like a child walking into a candy store with something like a hundred-dollar bill and limited supervision. 

“This is wonderful,” she said. She grabbed Carol’s arm and tugged her toward the tables where signs on posterboard, written with magic marker, declared they were handling registration. 

None of the surrounding small towns were, on their own, big enough to do much in the way of grand events. All of the little towns, though, were close enough to band together, when things were important, to function as something of a whole.

The speed dating event was for charity. To support the needed repairs on the county municipal buildings, they were selling tickets to the event. Andrea had immediately bought a ticket for herself and one for Carol. She argued it was for charity and, really, neither of them had been on a date for so long that the second act of charity could be helping either of them to find a man worth dating.

Carol had somewhat grudgingly come along because she knew how much it would mean to Andrea—her roommate was becoming difficult to deal with as she mourned the perceived passing of her life and worried that she would never find anyone. 

Carol could do this for Andrea. After all, she just had to get through the evening—she didn’t have to actually date anyone.

At the registration table, they each wrote their names on nametags and stuck them to their shirts. 

They were each given a small pad—one that advertised a local business that was trying to cash in on this event as much as possible—and a pen that advertised another business. This was so they could keep track of any notes they wanted to make about the men they might meet. Each of them also received a card which, at the end of the evening, they would turn in to indicate their interests. They would receive information about matches via email in the next few days. That way, nobody would have hurt feelings and nobody would leave with too much personal information about anybody else.

Finally, they received the explanation that the timer would be set and, when the bell rang, they would be expected to change partners. The men, in this case, would switch tables. The women would stay where they were.

It was simple enough. Carol found the table that corresponded to her number, got settled, and laughed at Andrea who was practically dancing in her seat across the room. She gave Carol a dramatic thumbs up and a smile. 

Carol reminded herself that she could do this for Andrea.

Carol doodled the name of the first man that came to her table on the top of her notepad. His name was Tobin. Carol barely managed to get out what she did for a living—she worked at a café that she’d started up, with a friend, after she’d finally gotten divorced from her ex-husband—before Tobin began explaining to her everything she was probably doing wrong with the care and maintenance of her building. Listening to him, Carol became acutely aware of how long, exactly, five minutes could really be. Carol focused on keeping her expression neutral, but she couldn’t help but smile when the timer went off.

“So—do I get your number?” Tobin asked. “I’d love to see you again…”

Carol held her smile as best she could.

“That’s not how it works. We fill out our cards, remember?”

“You definitely made my dance card,” Tobin offered.

Carol held her smile, hoping that her expression didn’t give away the fact that she couldn’t very well imagine what he might find even the slightest bit intriguing about her—he’d been the only one, really, to speak.

The second, third, and fourth men that came to her table were unremarkable in absolutely every single way. Even though they’d been interested in hearing Carol speak, she’d found that there was nothing about herself that she wanted to share. The lack of chemistry between them had been overwhelming. Luckily, she thought that all three of the men had felt the same way because none of them had seemed the slightest bit interested in getting her information, and it didn’t hurt her feelings that she couldn’t imagine that any of them had checked her name for “more information” to arrive later in their email inboxes.

“Good afternoon—Merle,” Carol said, reading the tag of the man who sat across from her next.

“Carol, huh? Tell me a lil’ bit about yourself, Sugar.” 

Carol relaxed in her chair. The man across from her was not what she would immediately call handsome. There was something about him, though, that made her almost feel drawn to speak to him. It was more than she could say about anyone else that she’d met so far.

“I—work at a café,” Carol said. “I own it.”

“An entrepreneur, hmmm?” Merle said. 

The way he was looking at her made Carol feel more like he was thinking about eating her than eating anything served at her restaurant. He ran his tongue around inside his mouth and Carol was honestly struck with the challenge of deciding if she found him absolutely disgusting or a touch magnetic.

“Yes…I started the café with a friend after my divorce,” Carol said.

“You lookin’ to marry again or—you just playin’ the field?” Merle asked.

“I guess it depends on…the relationship,” Carol said. 

“So, you ain’t jaded?” 

“I mean…”

“You a lil’ bit jaded, then.” 

“I don’t think…”

Carol didn’t get to finish, though, because the timer dinged before she could. Merle stuck a hand out to her and she shook it, surprised by his offer. His smile was genuine and he winked at her as he straightened up.

Five minutes passed a little more quickly, apparently, when you were at least somewhat intrigued by the person across from you at the table.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Real nice to meet you. I’ma add you to my card—puts the ball in your court, Sugar.” 

Carol was still watching him go, trying to decide what in the world she thought of the interaction she’d just had, when the next man on her list sat down across from her. 

Immediately, Carol was struck by one thing—this man was good looking. He wasn’t handsome in a hunky movie star kind of way, but that wasn’t the kind of handsome that interested Carol. It never had been. The man sitting across from her was just the kind of handsome that she liked.

She smiled at him and, immediately, she meant it, though he looked a touch sulky.

“Daryl?” She asked, reading his name tag.

“Nice to meet you, Carol,” he said. “First off—let me apologize for my brother. He was prob’ly dropped on his head a couple times when he was a baby, and I was hopin’ they wouldn’t put me followin’ right after him all evenin’, but it seems like they couldn’t fulfill that one request.”

Carol laughed to herself.

“Merle is your brother?” She asked. Daryl nodded. 

“So, I’m sorry if he offended you,” Daryl said. 

“He didn’t offend me,” Carol assured him. “I’m sorry—I’m…not good at this. I don’t—think.” 

Daryl relaxed visibly.

“Hey—me either. I mean—I don’t really date.” 

“You mean you haven’t been on a date in a while?” 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“Why not?” Carol asked. He was certainly good looking enough to get a date and, from what she could tell, he had a pretty decent personality. She felt immediately at ease with him, and that was something that she really couldn’t say about most men since she’d gotten divorced from her abusive ex-husband.

Daryl simply shrugged. 

“What about you?” He asked, redirecting the question.

“Not since my divorce,” Carol said. 

“That’s a shame,” Daryl said. “You could, if you wanted, I mean. I’m sure there’s plenty of men who’d want to date you and all. Hell—you prob’ly gonna be on the card of like over half the assholes here by the end of the night.” 

Carol was oddly flattered by the statement. 

“Maybe—I don’t want to be on the card of over half the men here.” 

“You just—killin’ time or somethin’?” 

Carol shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe I—just want to be on the card of…one of them.” 

Daryl stared at her and she held his eyes. He was clearly nervous and it was oddly endearing. Carol had started to suspect that parts of her body had actually stopped functioning, at least to some degree. She hadn’t felt sexually attracted to her ex-husband during many of the years that they’d been married. He’d literally beaten any sexual attraction out of her that she might have felt for him. Since then, she hadn’t felt that kind of desire for any man. 

She couldn’t ignore the sensation between her legs, though, as something she’d considered dead surged up to remind her that it was, in fact, very much alive.

She felt almost ashamed of herself, and she felt her cheeks run warm. 

Daryl, across the table, let the corner of his mouth turn up just slightly in the hint of a smile. 

“You mean you—wouldn’t mind it if I was to add you to my card?” Daryl asked.

“I wish you would,” Carol said.

“And you would add me to yours so they’ll—send me your last name and like…your phone number and all?” 

Carol smiled to herself and nodded.

“You ought to know—I don’t think I’m real good at dating. I haven’t really had a lot of practice.”

“That’s alright,” Carol said. “I haven’t either. And—I’m probably not very good at it, either.”

Daryl smiled more sincerely to himself. The timer went off and he jumped. He looked around, nervously. He looked at Carol and, immediately, she could see the same kind of regret on his features that she felt burning in her belly. The time was too short and they hadn’t said enough—and now there was someone else waiting to come to her table.

Daryl stuck out a hand to her and she shook it, her skin practically feeling electrically charged just where his fingers touched hers.

“You were bein’ honest, about…writin’ my name down so they send me your information?” Daryl asked. Carol could hear the concern in his voice. She could feel it, too, in her stomach. 

What if something happened and they never got the information?

“Here,” Carol said. She pulled his hand to her and, in a moment of boldness, she wrote her name—the full thing—on Daryl’s hand with her phone number. He looked at it and smiled. “Now the ball’s in your court,” she said, echoing his brother’s words. 

Daryl smiled at her. He nodded his head. 

“I’ma use it soon as I get outta here.”

Carol nodded her head. 

Almost immediately, the next man on her card sat in front of her, practically pushing Daryl onward to the next table. Carol watched Daryl as he moved to the next table. She finally turned to look at the man in front of her when Daryl acknowledged the woman in front of him.

“I’m Ezekiel,” he said.

“Carol,” Carol responded. 

The man smiled at her, somewhat leaning across the table. She could tell, immediately, that he was charming—and he was one of those men who knew that he was charming. He would leave here with his name checked on no shortage of cards. 

He wasn’t going on Carol’s card, though.

“You know—that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” he said. “Giving him your number like that. Though—if you’re handing it out…”

“I’m not,” Carol said quickly. She offered him an insincere smile and glanced in Daryl’s direction. Instead of paying careful attention to the woman with whom he was speaking, he was somewhat glaring at Ezekiel with a deep furrow between his brows. 

Carol laughed to herself and did her best to return to the few minutes that she still owed the man in front of her, but she already knew that the rest of the evening would be nothing more than going through the motions. 

When she left—their leaving staggered by the time it took to turn in cards and fill out paperwork—Carol walked with Andrea, their arms hooked together, to the car. She heard Andrea rattling on, as they walked, about the men she’d met. She’d apparently checked nearly every name—just in case, she said, since pickings could be rather slim around those parts—but there was one in particular that had caught her interest, even though she feared that he might not have really put down anyone’s name just because he’d told her that he was writing hers down.

Carol barely paid too much attention to Andrea’s words, though, because she was so focused on her own thoughts.

She was happy, then, when she got in the passenger’s side of Andrea’s car and her phone buzzed almost immediately. She read the message quickly, and smiled to herself. She thumbed in a response to reassure him that it was really her number, and she hadn’t fooled him—and she’d love to have dinner with him some time.

“Who are you talking to?” Andrea asked.

“Daryl,” Carol said. “From speed dating.” 

“How’d you get his number so fast?” Andrea asked.

“I gave him mine,” Carol said with a laugh. It felt like the most scandalous and daring thing she’d ever done. She wondered what Daryl would think if he knew how truly boring and dull she could be. 

“That’s not now it’s supposed to work, Carol,” Andrea said. 

Carol hummed. 

“I can understand if you’re—a stickler for the rules of speed dating. And—I totally respect that. But if you’re not…his brother is Merle, and I can get you a number.” 

Beside her, Andrea smiled. Carol saw it, thanks to the lights from the headlights of the cars they were meeting on the road.

“You know,” Andrea mused, “rules really were made to be broken.”


End file.
